


a hopeless, a violence, i named it: love

by lumariste



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Dissociation, Experimental Style, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Second Person, goro's brain is very mean, homies is it gay if i tenderly hold you while u have a breakdown outside of leblanc?, kinda........., persona 5 royal spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumariste/pseuds/lumariste
Summary: The breeze is cold and your skin is numb.His arms are around you. He is supposed to be warm.All you feel is ice....or: goro thinks about his life.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Kudos: 30





	a hopeless, a violence, i named it: love

**Author's Note:**

> title is from door by mitski, this fic was inspired by a piece of art by reveriesky on twitter. it hit close to home, so i decided to write some angst.
> 
> apologies for the format! i wrote it in a different software, i'm nd and i don't like big blocks of text, also bc this is lowkey a vent fic.... 
> 
> CW: mentions of hyperventilating, mild dissociation, mentions of character death, if there's any more needing to be added lmk!

The breeze is cold and your skin is numb.

His arms are around you. He is supposed to be warm.

All you feel is ice.

Something damp on your shoulder – tears, perhaps – he sobs apologies into your coat, his grasp tight and strong.

The closer he pulls you towards him, the more withdrawn you feel. You’ve been doing this for years. It isn’t new.

You can’t tell if you’re hyperventilating or completely frozen; your skin feels like a shell. It it slowly cracking under Ren’s touch.

Why are you scared? Why aren’t you reciprocating? Haven’t you worked this much just for this? For an embrace? To make you feel like you’re worth something? _Anything_ at all? How selfish can you be.

It’s stupid. _You’re_ stupid and so is he. Knowing that your life– everything you’ve worked so hard to keep– will disappear in a day or two. It’s not a comforting thought and yet it makes you feel complete.

_You’re finally going to be with her–_

Do you want to be with her? Does she even miss you? Does she look down on you and smile? Does she?

Does she.

You can’t know for sure.

 _“Goro–”_ His voice is broken. Pathetic. It’s disgusting how your heart feels heavy from one call of your name. You wished to hear him say your name like that, akin to a religious prayer, but now that he has… it does not bring the satisfaction you thought it would.

He pulls back. His eyes are lost and his cheeks are stained wet. The cold must be biting his tearstains.

You lift a hand and rub away the tracks. You have done this before. The tracks of a crime scene.

Ren is a crime scene and you are the culprit. You are the murderer. You are the knife and the gun. You are the disinfectant.

Who is the victim? It’s indiscernible.

Ren lifts a hand and covers yours. The expression on his face is distant yet fond. You’ve always hated reading his masks.

“Why are you looking at me like that.” Your voice is monotone. A specialty of yours.

“I’m just looking at you,” “You look a mess.” He laughs at that. Your heart feels heavier. Why?

He places a hand behind your head and forces your face into the crook of his neck. Your eyes don’t close, staring at the tacky fabric of his turtleneck.

Despite this, your arms do not move. They feel like an amputation. No longer there. You feel them but cannot move them.

Why are you like this? Why? Why do you try so hard and get nowhere? How useless are you? Your entire life has been a fake.

It hurts. You’ve been hurting for years yet you hide it. The gaping wound in your chest isn’t noticeable except to you.

And now Ren. _Ren_. Why? You keep asking these things but never get answers. He says he cares for you because he likes you.

But your mother liked you.

She liked you.

And she left, too. Ren will leave eventually. Or is it you who will leave? Why are you asking these things?

“Goro,” He says once more. His voice is steadier, softer. Your hands twitch, he notices because nothing gets past him.

“Shut up,” You say. It’s strangled and torn. Your ears burn bright and the warmth spreads through your body.

This happens with Ren. All it takes is one ounce of kindness and you shatter.

“Stop it, let go of me–” His grip tightens. “Goro. Come on.” His voice is firmer now, easily stopping you in your tracks. The voice in your head urges you to fight back, so you do.

You struggle and try to pull away, planting your hands on his chest and pushing off; his embrace is suffocating and you’re going to die. Like this. In his arms.

_It wouldn’t be that bad._

Shut up.

“Fucking– let _go_ of me– _Ren_ –” It hurts to say anything, your throat dry and parched. Panic seeps through your veins as he doesn’t let go.

Your heart stops when he loosens his grip and his gaze burns into you. His eyes carve through your skin. Etching his mark in.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t let this happen. You promised. All you’re good for is breaking promises.

“Can’t you just let me have this?” He asks. It’s not rhetorical question. It never is with him.

“I just got you back. I have you back. You’re going to fucking _die_ in a day. Let me have this,” He lets out a shaky breath. “ _Please_.”

He’s begging you. He’s in front of your heart and he is begging on his knees for the key and you won’t give it to him.

_You won’t give it to him?_

_He already has it, though._

A sob breaks loose. His eyes widen and he takes a step back. He thinks he’s overstepped, been too forceful. You’re all too used to people stealing from you, making you vulnerable and going in for the kill. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t make sense.

Your body feels off without him surrounding your every sense. Your hands tremble and tears fall. It aches something terrible.

A hand finds itself on the back of your neck. Cold and grounding.

“Breathe for me. Can you do that?” You don’t know, at this point.

Seconds turn into minutes and those minutes turn double digits. Standing outside LeBlanc at night, hyperventilating, all because you can’t handle affection and the consequences of your actions.

_You’re not much different from your father, are you?_

Ren’s arms make their way around you again.

This time you don’t feel like fighting.

The warmth is all-encompassing. You close your eyes and let it drag you under.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading. i know it's really short and kinda weird but its the first thing i've finished in literal years so i wanted to post it because it's all abt the lil victories in life c: 
> 
> if you wanna know what i was listening to while writing this: i listened to door & liquid smooth by mitski, 4 morant by doja cat and truck stop tiger by roar!
> 
> my twitter is @LUMARISTE (all caps)!


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